


tracing into your skin

by sleepinnude



Category: Glee
Genre: Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:05:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepinnude/pseuds/sleepinnude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is dirty. He is dirty and greasy and oily and sweaty and a little sore and mostly just wants a shower and then a nap. Yet he can’t find it in himself to be upset when he gets home and finds Blaine chatting happily with Carole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tracing into your skin

Kurt is dirty. He is dirty and greasy and oily and sweaty and a little sore and mostly just wants a shower and then a nap. Yet he can’t find it in himself to be upset when he gets home and finds Blaine chatting happily with Carole.

They exchange a chaste kiss and Carole smiles, turning back to the paper she’s reading laid out over the kitchen table. “I didn’t know you were coming over,” Kurt says, only a hint of less-than-happy in his voice and that’s mostly because he is oily and dirty and god only knows what his hair looks like and his boyfriend is standing right here. 

“Surprise?” Blaine offers, grin unwavering. And he’s looking Kurt up and down and there is definitely the shadow of something hot beneath his eyes.

Kurt swallows and smiles and says, “Shower. I need to shower.”

Blaine nods and follows him up to his room and Kurt is happy that his father is still at the shop and that Carole does nothing more than shoot them a knowing, warning look that ends with something like a wink but Kurt might be imagining things.

Once the bedroom door is shut behind them, Blaine is pressed up against his back, mouthing kisses at the back of his neck and skimming hands under the hem of his tee shirt. Kurt lets out a highly unintelligent noise and slumps back into his boyfriend. But there’s still too much sweat and dirt and grit over his skin and he would like that off, thank you very much, so he nudges Blaine away. At Blaine’s pouting sound, he grins and turns to slant their mouths together. His hands come up to slide through Blaine’s curls but then he remembers the oil stains over his fingers and under his nails and shudders, half for Blaine’s sake, half for his own, and pulls away. “Shower,” he insists and Blaine nods his reluctant agreement. 

Kurt moves for his bathroom, leaving Blaine to fiddle with his iPod on his bed. He turns the shower on and then undresses and then, very deliberately, unlocks the door and sets it open an inch. And hopes that his oblivious, adorable boyfriend isn’t so adorably oblivious to miss his meaning.

The bathroom is already steamed and Kurt is shampooing and losing hope in Blaine when the door opens and then shuts all the way. Locks. Kurt turns and his heart skips a beat at the blurry shape of Blaine pulling his shirt over his head. “You left the door open,” Blaine says, voice muffled through pounding water. “That was silly; anyone could just walk in on you.”

Kurt chuckles and rinses his shampoo through. “As evidenced by your presence.”

Blaine make an indecipherable noise at that and Kurt watches through the corner of his eye as he gets rid of his shorts. The shower door slides open then and Kurt carefully keeps his face forward. Blaine undoes that in a moment though, fingers sliding over Kurt’s jaw to turn his head and lick into his mouth. The water skims between them and Kurt groans from the heat and closeness and the feel of Blaine against his ass. He turns without prompting, falling into an embrace and deeper kiss. “Fuck, Blaine,” he swears.

“Fuck yourself,” Blaine answers and is obviously not aware of how that could have been construed. His voice is low and needy and when he opens his eyes they’re blown wide. “Do you know how fucking hot you were earlier? With— All— And your hair,” he moans out the last part and sets into kissing along the side of Kurt’s neck.

“My hair was awful,” Kurt replies, incredulous.

“It wasn’t perfect and it was fucking hot,” Blaine counters, vocabulary seemingly shot with Kurt’s cock lined up against his own. 

Kurt hums, done with the conversation, and turns Blaine with him. Their feet squeak over the slipping floor, water tracing around them to swirl toward the drain. Blaine’s shoulders hit the tiled wall and Kurt crowds in after him, tasting the curves of his ear, the slope of his neck, the underside of his chin. Blaine’s hair has gone loose with the steam and the heat and the water and when Kurt fingers through it it’s easy. His hands tighten and Blaine lets out a small cry, swallowed by Kurt. His hips cant up into Kurt’s and there’s a desperation in the lines of his eyes, in the tightness of his jaw. 

Kurt hushes him gently and trails two fingers down his spine, over his ass, around his entrance. Blaine pants for it, hips still urging up and up, cock sliding over the wet, negative space of Kurt’s own hips.

Kurt works him open slow and studiously, listening for every moan and gasp and choked syllable under the soldier of water. Blaine’s bitten lips stay parted and pushing heavy breaths as Kurt pieces into him. When he pulls his hand away completely, Blaine collapses forward, into him, and shakes his head against the crook of his neck. “No,” he gasps into the dewed skin there. “No, keep… I mean… God, Kurt. Keep… With your fingers…”

Kurt is a bright kid and understands what his boyfriend wants immediately. Sucking the lobe of Blaine’s ear between his teeth, he curves his fingers back into Blaine and shivers from the long moan Blaine releases against his collar. He presses in, passing knuckles and rings of muscle and Blaine is quaking under him, blindly mouthing over Kurt’s shoulder until his lips are sloppy with saliva and shower water. His fingers tense and loose grip and tense again over Kurt’s arm and side. His eyes are shut tight and if Kurt strains his neck to the side he can just see the sparkle of water droplets caught between the lashes.

It hits him hard and fast then — and probably quite inappropriately given their current occupations — that he is so fucking in love with the boy in his arms. He wants to never stop studying his tiny details, from the way water sparkles in his eyelashes to the way his lips tremble and his back arches and that there’s hair covering his chest and trailing off lower to the flushed head of his cock and into the soft, tender, smooth skin at the joint of his legs and the way his toes seize up on the tiled floor and how his top teeth weigh down his bottom lip and set the coloring off from blood distribution. And not to mention all the different ways Blaine reacts to Kurt inside his body. How his breathing stops and takes a moment when Kurt angles his wrist just so and the way he keens against Kurt’s skin when he presses in just a centimeter further after not breaching anymore for sometime.

And especially the way he tenses up and fucks up into Kurt’s thighs and chants Kurt’s name brokenly when Kurt pressing in and out, hard and fast and unstopping. The way he breaks over Kurt, shuddering through his orgasm and breathing heavy and hands spasming and eyes blinking open like a newborn after a minute to gather himself.

Blaine smiles sleepily up at him and presses a kiss into his mouth while Kurt busies himself with pulling his fingers from Blaine and and washing the come from between their stomachs and even Blaine’s chest.

He’s halfway to bringing his hand to his own aching cock, going crazy from the sensation of water dropping over it, when Blaine slips to his knees and edges Kurt up against the other wall. He presses open-mouthed kisses over Kurt’s hips and thighs leaving bruises that Kurt should care about. If he could see them, he would definitely care, but his head is thrown back against the tiling and his eyes are pressed closed.

Blaine works his way center and takes Kurt without tease, slurping and sucking happily and spreading hands over his stomach to keep him steady. He swallows around the head of Kurt’s cock, pulling a moan from the boy above him, and then draws a healthy lick up the underside, one hand dropping to thumb over Kurt’s balls.

“Fuck,” Kurt swears in a strangled voice, fingers curling into Blaine’s water-sleek hair and tugging a little. Blaine whimpers and ducks his head back over Kurt’s cock, sucking with earnest again and Kurt’s fingers tighten, holding him in place. His hips cant forward and he makes some exhale of an apology but Blaine only hums in approval. Which is fortunate because the vibration of the noise sends Kurt’s head spinning and his hips forward even further. Blaine bobs along with him and it’s like they’re working in symphony, lashes lowering over cheeks and fingers pressing through skin and hair.

Kurt breaks quickly and if he were cognizant enough would have been disappointed that Blaine pulls off, doesn’t swallow and swallow and swallow. And he would have lost that disappointment a moment later, after coming to his senses through the cry of Blaine’s name and the pants and the twitches, when he sees Blaine blinking up at him with his come strung over Blaine’s nose and cheeks and one ear and a little in the curls falling over his forehead and he’s struck again by how in love he is with this boy but even harder with how love this boy is in love with him. 

With the taste of Blaine’s tongue and his own come in his mouth, Kurt finally finishes cleaning off, Blaine lazily tracing the grooves and dips and hidden corners to his skin. He closes the faucet and steps out of the shower, pulling his boyfriend with him.

They kiss, naked and clean with steam hanging in the air.


End file.
